


Resolve and relief

by Shadowmun



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dubious Consent, Emotional Porn, Hurt/Comfort, Love/Hate, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:28:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27708365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowmun/pseuds/Shadowmun
Summary: After the release from Azkaban and return to the Order of Phoenix, Sirius has to face Severus Snape to make peace... In a more physical way than anticipated
Relationships: Sirius Black/Severus Snape
Comments: 4
Kudos: 46





	Resolve and relief

**Author's Note:**

> Again, a little distraction, again, no idea if it's any good.  
> And again: no native, no beta, no problem with getting served your opinion, comments appreciated.

Severus sat silent, as he watched the other man enter the room. The man, he had once wanted, almost as much as he wanted Lilly. The man, who had once tried to kill him. The bane of his adolescent existence in more than one aspect. And the man, he had thought, had accosted him all, he ever desired. Who had betrayed Lilly and James – to hell with James – and their young child.

This, proven wrong, left him with the Order of Phoenix. And with Severus, who, while not exactly hating him, still despised him, if only, being honest to himself, as much, as he still wanted him.

Sirius Black was different. He was as far from the irresponsible, happy and reckless youth as one could get… whilst remaining so… recognizable. His cheeks were hollow, his eyes empty and though his beard and hair had been cleaned, his body bathed, a stench of sweat – of fear – clung to him.

“Severus.” His head dipped softly, just once, as he stayed by the door, the hands low, unthreatening, far from his belt, where he stored his wand. So very carefully avoiding any misunderstandings.

“Sirius”, he answered in turn, studying the face, although there was little left to discover. How could a man change thus and remain the same? How could he hate him, all this time, and still feel the warm stir of hunger, from only facing him?

He was, though, not the youth of back then any more than Sirius was, and far less helpless. He glowered at him and made if not the attraction, then at least its signs go away by sheer willpower.

“Dumbledore needs us to get by. Will that be possible, or do I need to exclude you from all our plans?”

With a growl and a few fast steps Black was at his side, fists clenched and body tense. “I will do, what is necessary to keep the boy safe.” He then, very cautiously and breathing deeply, forced his body back to the previous, seemingly relaxed stance. “Even make peace. My… apologies.”

Severus could see, what massive amount of his strength was necessary for this statement; how it drained the very color from his skin, and yet… He wasn’t willing to hand out forgiveness so easily. “Your apologies? And what for, exactly, may I ask?” The tone was a weapon, honed over years and years of wandering at the edge, sounding so very cool and unfazed, while communicating the unseen emotions efficiently.

Black’s look grew harder, as he bared his teeth in disgust. “For the rejections and the resentments, back then… when we were boys. For Remus. For…” He stopped, scowling, his shoulders rising and falling again, the eyes hardening, while he fought his instincts. “For thinking all those years, it was you. You, who betrayed them. You, who killed them. You, who put me into Azkaban. It wasn’t. And I am sorry.”

This last one came as a surprise. Not only in the fact, but also in its precision compared to the vague statements on the past, and in the sincere regret that painted Black’s face. Severus sighed. He was in no mood to let go, but the circumstances required concessions. “It will be enough. For now.”

For a fraction of a moment, their eyes met, and the true depth of Black’s despair surfaced in his eyes, showing Severus the broken fragments of a man, he once hated just as much as he wished to have him. It hurt, the sting so bad, that he gasped. His hand shot up against his will and cupped the bearded cheek.

Black flinched as if being hit, but made no movement to defend himself, his face a mask of suffering. “Severus, don’t. Not, if you don’t mean it.” He then added, as casually as if it was a simple afterthought: “I haven’t been touched in a very long time.”

The knife in Severus heart twisted once more, adding insult to injury, clenching the hand around Black’s jaw, instead of disrupting the contact. His second hand hit Black’s sternum like a blow, and he pushed, effectively pinning the man against the wall. “I do not intend to let your wishes dictate my actions.”

Black’s declined strength let him shrink in Severus grip, allowing him to tower over him like over a disobedient pupil. He even averted his gaze, studying the corner of the room very intently. But he caught himself fast, straightened up, glanced back at Severus and… bowed to kiss him.

He hadn’t intended to. That much was obvious. He flinched back, hitting the back of his head at the wall, finally raising his hands to push Severus away, but not yet strong enough to succeed.

A short-lived smirk passed over Severus’ face. “Still no master of your own actions, I see”, he mocked mercilessly, though Black already was in agony. “If I was about to… encounter you…” He used his hand, still locked in place at Black’s face and forced him to tilt his head, exposing the vulnerable neck, and bit directly into the tendon.

His victim cried out in a strange mixture of pain and lust. His heartbeat trembled under Severus lips, teasing his tongue into exploration down to the collarbone, where he placed another cruel pledge of his rising affection, forcing a suffocated gasp out of Black.

“Severus…”, he whispered, his voice breaking in another moan, his eyes heavy-lidded, his hands caught between defense and encouragement, his legs shaky and weak.

The very one stepped back, breaking the contact with ease and cruelty. “Beg.”

There was but a second of hesitation, until Black fell to his knees and lowered his head. “Please, Severus. Please.”

Strangely, when he looked down on his once enemy, he realized, it wasn’t revenge he was after, nor humiliation. In a way, it was the opposite. He could see the man breaking, shattering to pieces, and he had to, needed to make sure, they were properly detached, before they could mend; the only way to make him whole again.

Only shortly pondering, before reaching a decision, he tangled his hand into the other’s hair and pulled him against his thigh. “Cry.”

Black resisted, a little, reacting badly to Severus’ tightening grip, and growled hoarsely: “I cannot, please, I can’t… I have no tears left in me.”

Severus was unshakable. “Cry.” Pulling him closer, he saw it happening, without Black even feeling, even understanding, it did. Tears welled in his eyes, pushed their way out over his cheeks, against all resistance. He fought for control. He could not stop them falling, but he would not sob or whimper.  
It was fine by Severus, it didn’t matter. Very slowly he rested Black’s head against his leg and stroked his hair, until he calmed, a silent fight, a necessary one.

As he watched the pieces of the man who once tried to kill him, maybe although, maybe even because he was attracted to him, he let his mind wander, imagined the youth of the past, good-looking, teasing, charming… So little left, and still too much to find it in him to fully resist.

Maybe he relaxed on purpose, missed the moment, when Black came back to senses, jumped at him and forced him into a tight grip, their faces mere inches from each other. “Pay up!”, Black snarled, before pressing his thinned lips against Severus’, conquering his mouth with the courage of the truly desperate. Severus let him. Now, he was still strong enough to subdue him, if necessary, but he felt no need to. Instead he grabbed Blacks’ collar, regaining some control of the situation.

He leaned back, let the other roam, let feverish fingers tug at his robe and shirt.

Willingly Black lowered himself back to the ground, nuzzled his face against the lower end of Severus stomach, until he could find a way to what he wanted. Willingly, even eager, accepting Severus’ hands in his hair as guides. His pride was flexible, these days, his will fragile. There was little want for domination left in him, he would submit, if he could only… touch.

It had its beauty, and in the end, it was, what tipped the scales. Severus let him, helped him, offered him, what he wanted, grunting contently, when Sirius’ Blacks tongue first wrapped around the tip of his length, before running tentatively along the shaft. For long precious moments, he left their struggle for power and control untended, only savored the feeling, the well-educated teasing tongue left on him. But that couldn’t last. Intently he tightened the grip in Sirius’ hair and pulled, establishing his current approach on this encounter.

It was delightful but disquieting, how little resistance he met. Azkaban had all but destroyed the foundations on which the former golden boy of the great house Black was build. To see him concentrate solely on experiencing touch again, on giving pleasure in exchange for closeness, was… well it was more than even Severus could take.

Although he hated the arrogance, the recklessness, the very existence of the youth, he couldn’t bear to find no trace of it in the man. He wanted it, needed it. If there was no fight left in his nemesis, if he was so fully destroyed, it held no rewards to succeed over him, it became hollow.

Feverishly, he pulled Sirius up to him by his hair, kissed him, heatedly, putting his fingers efficiently into the task of undressing him. Half-naked, the interesting front half, that is, he pushed him against, no, at a table, breathing against his ear, running his fingernails over the pale, still surprisingly smooth skin. “I don’t need your obedience, Sirius… Show some spirit!”

Grim realization dawned in his nemesis eyes, first hollow and weak, then sparking with amusement, stronger, more secure. He pulled Severus closer, locking his fingers behind his back, kissed him, biting the lower lip, eyes glowing in a fire, Severus noticed, he had missed dearly, until now.

He had guessed, Sirius would immediately try to get up, leave the vulnerable position he was in, half lying on a table, exposed, but the opposite was the case. Instead of fighting from his less then ideal position he pulled Severus down to him, continuing the previously abandoned task to rid him of his clothes as well. His hands were still surprisingly strong and to Severus’ delight knowledgeable. Where his fingers tickled along the ribs, leaving a streak of hotness on the otherwise rarely excited skin, his thumbs stroked surely along, leaving a deeper, even more lustful impression.

Severus could see his lips twitch upwards in amusement and knew with pleased certainty, the battle was on. And what glorious fight that would be. He had the advantage of power, stronger and in better shape than Sirius would achieve in months. The other, however could score with more experience and honestly more daring.

He showed that of easily, his lips, puffed up by the first few kisses, explored Severus face with tender thoroughness. The sharp cheekbones struck his fancy, so did the elegant curve of the earlobes and the clean-shaven jaw. Severus could barely stifle the gasps, drawn from him against his will. He didn’t want to grant reward so fast but found himself unable to resist.

This tongue was a weapon of its own, dangerously knowing, sweet and cruel in turn. Being on top didn’t necessarily mean being in charge, he belatedly found, when Sirius buried his face in the crevice between neck and shoulder, his tongue the spearhead of assault, licking drops of sweat from Severus’ skin, enforcing more urgent sounds of pleasure.

“Sirius…”, he hissed, swallowing, somehow, drawn back in time to the views, he treasured most.

Long slender limbs, a strong back, a boyish smirk, thrown over a shoulder, as if it was nothing, although in truth it was a whole world.

A head, pulled back, not by the hands of a lover, but by pleasure itself, eyes closed, vulnerable nakedness deliberately exposed, willful abandon.

Strong hands, pinning a willing body, caressing, teasing, stripping away any thoughts or restraints.

It had never been him, never him. Never. He’d been the watcher, victim to Sirius’ lack of subtility and discreteness, once and again. If by accident or on purpose was lost in the darkness of time gone, as had the bitterness, somehow.

“Sirius…” An exhale of want, so intense, he hadn’t felt, since he was a boy, a desire forcing him into action, regaining initiative, regaining control. His hands had a life of their own, seizing, taking, conquering the skin, he desired.

Now it was Sirius turn to gasp in surprised pleasure, and he was much less resistant than in Severus memory, craved the contact as much as his counterpart, gifting him with that special kind of expression, eyes closed, jaws relaxed, marking his downfall, peeling away layers of pride, rejection, hatred, until nothing was left but the fragility of exposed arousal. “Please, Severus, take me, please…. Please…”

It would have been easy to follow immediately, using magic to open him up, good and thoroughly. But years and years of rejection and bitterness needed to be accounted, needed to be paid and carefully sacrificed to oblivion. He wanted Sirius to feel it all, to gasp and shiver, until he was sure, he could take no more, begging, crying, before he granted him sweet relief.

So, he ran his fingers longingly along Sirius more than willing shaft, gathering what fluid had accumulated at the very tip and rubbed it generously into the still tensely closed anus, he was offered. Sirius winced, just a little pain mixed into the pleasure and looked up to him, knowingly, willingly surrendering. He could have summoned something helpful. Would have. With anyone else. Would later, when his hunger for retribution was stilled. But not now. Not yet.

When what little Sirius could provide proofed insufficient, he made him lick the precum-covered fingers, until they were wet and sloppy and started working them slowly into his enemy turned lover’s pucker. It was a taxing challenge to watch out carefully, balancing his desires with what Sirius could take, it was however rewarding too.

The deliberate roughness, the collision of egos and necessary submission of one, put the heir of the proud Blacks right on the edge, not despite, but because he was bested by a mere half-blood, he had rejected, while he still was in charge. Severus could see it in the way, he opened himself up for the intrusion, his head lolling back, his hands idly caressing what he could get hold of, instead of fighting against Severus. His breath stuttered and hitched; his smile was all desire.

Severus couldn’t get enough of the sight, although it became increasingly hard to concentrate, as his own arousal made itself known dominantly. He wanted… needed, to go on…

And he knew, that, once more, he needed to surprise Sirius to keep the score in his favor. Doing exactly, what the Black heir expected would earn him nothing. So when more of the same was expected, pleasure only earned through willing himself through the pain, Severus decided otherwise. He whispered the lubrication spell, inaudible to Sirius ears, covered himself generously and then, without further hesitation pushed into the willing body of his lover, while placing his hand on the throbbing erection before him, holding it still, not yet moving.

A scream of pleasure and pure need caught in Sirius’ throat and made him smile, not only because of the implications, but also for the ripple of tension, that went through the trembling body and in turn, also through him. It was bliss, and he couldn’t resist any longer. Scowling at Sirius, for lacking the constraint to stifle his groans and moans, he pushed forward eagerly, completely missing the irony. Soon he pounded his counterpart in abandon, chasing relief and giving at the same pace, fisting the length of Sirius erection in sync.

Sirius moaned and begged, not even trying to hold back anything, but Severus wouldn’t let him come just yet. Each time, he felt him pulse, so close to relief, he could already feel its rising, he forced him into stillness, pressing his thumb mercilessly just where he needed it, to refuse Sirius, what he longed for. Again, and again, and again, fucking him, hard and deep, bottoming out with each push. Only, when he found his own climax, burying himself deep within the others body, he finally allowed him to come as well, exhausted and almost desperate, yet so powerful, it left him weak and shaking…

Strangely, the relief came silently, barely more than an exhale and so different from everything he knew of Sirius Black. Still, the face looking up to him, covered in sweat and comfortable tiredness, left no doubts on his satisfaction. “Thanks…” he whispered, encircling Severus collapsing form with his own arms until he gathered enough strength to stand up again and help both into upright position.

And strangely too, Sirius recovered much faster, the mischievous glint, Severus had missed until this moment, back where it belonged. Still, Severus couldn’t resist the quip: “Next time I won’t be so easy on you…”

Sirius in turn grinned. “Next time, you might not come out on top, Severus…”


End file.
